


Sick, Sicker

by asmallhero



Series: Learning to Cope [19]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Gen, Non-Sexual Age Play, Sickfic, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 05:34:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20902448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asmallhero/pseuds/asmallhero
Summary: He feels... Small. Very small. Tiny, if you will. He wiggles his toes in his shoes and stares hard at his keyboard. He wants to ask for help, but all he can do is sit there and focus on his toes and try not to cry.





	Sick, Sicker

**Author's Note:**

> someone on another fic in this series asked for trevor? here he is! ...sick, unfortunately.

This is new. Well. Not really. But it's new-ish. There's an ache behind Trevor's eyes that feels like he's holding back tears, but he isn't sure why. He's been this way all day so far, despite it being barely two pm.

He feels... Small. Very small. Tiny, if you will. He wiggles his toes in his shoes and stares hard at his keyboard. He wants to ask for help, but all he can do is sit there and focus on his toes and try not to cry.

At one point Jack leans over his shoulder with a question. "Should we do the live action for that video now, or wait until Monday?" It sounds a million miles away. He touches Trevor's shoulder, and then goes, "Aw, man."

All Trevor gets out is a real, real smart, real smooth, "Huh?"

Jack spins his chair, gently, and pinches his fingers together slowly. He raises his eyebrows like he's asking a question. Alfredo looks over, then, and pats Jack’s arm. “He said he felt kinda nauseous this morning,” he says. Then, softer, “He feels tiny when he feels sick.”

Oh, yeah. “Oh, yeah,” Trevor mumbles. That’s why he feels like crying.

“How small?” Jack tries to direct the question at him. All Trevor can do is pinch his fingers together, almost touching.

Trevor is glad that he and Jeremy came up with this system, because the only thing he can get out next is, “Jack, I don’ feel so good,” before goosebumps sweep over his skin and he breaks out into a cold sweat. He can’t fight it back this time.

“Geoff,” Jack barks. “Can, now, hurry.”

It feels like no longer than a split second before a trash can is being shoved under his nose by a tattooed hand.

Everything crashes over him in a wave, and a distant thought has him thankful for Geoff’s good timing.

A big hand rubs at his back, and he feels his shirt clinging to his back, damp with his chills. “Hey, you’re okay,” Jack says. A glance up shows he’s holding the can now instead of Geoff.

Trevor lets out a noise that sounds like a distant whine. “Yucky,” he whimpers. “Want Blue,” he says.

“What’s blue?” Jack asks. Trevor isn’t sure it’s directed at him. It might be, but his ears ring as he hunches over the trash can again, clutching at its sides.

When he surfaces for air, Alfredo is answering for him. “Blue is blue Gatorade. It’s his favorite flavor.” He pauses, and Trevor looks up. Alfredo smiles, just a tiny bit. “His  _ flavor-ite _ ,” he adds.

Trevor laughs weakly, briefly, and sighs when his throat burns from the acid and bile. Jack keeps rubbing at his back, and Trevor can only think that he’s never been small enough to warrant this sort of attention from him. A bit deliriously, he looks around for Jack.

“I’m here. How’re you feeling?” Jack asks, offering a gentle smile from his side. “Done?”

“I’unno,” Trevor rasps. His head spins. “Wanna lay.” He lets go of the can and moves to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Whoa there, bud,” Geoff cuts in. Trevor pauses, but the slimy feeling on his lips is distracting. It’s gross and he wants it gone. “Here.” Gingerly Geoff tips his head up and wipes his face with a paper towel, then drops it in the can. “Let’s get you laying down.”

Jack takes the can away, and Geoff’s steady hands are helping him stand. Trevor is glad for the help; his knees wobble dangerously once he’s on his feet. “Come on, little guy,” Geoff says. He wraps an arm around Trevor’s middle and all but marches him to the couch.

All of the adrenaline from losing his lunch--and his breakfast--has left Trevor high and dry. “Sleepy,” he mumbles. He drops onto the couch, clammy and cold, and he shakes. The nap pillow is still there from Geoff’s power nap three hours ago, and when Trevor buries his face against it, it still smells like him.

“Want me to sit with you?” Geoff asks, much gentler than his manhandling moments ago. Trevor nods. Geoff situates himself so that Trevor’s legs are over his own and rubs at his calf.

“It’s nice,” Trevor slurs.

Geoff pats at his knee. “What’s nice?” he asks.

“‘Tention.” Trevor yawns and wraps his arms around the nap pillow, re-nuzzling his face into it.

“What?” Geoff replies. His voice sounds like it’s a million miles away again, but this time it’s not because Trevor’s gonna spew. He sounds… surprised. “Attention?” he parrots.

“Yeah.” Trevor peeks out of the pillow, worried that Geoff is mad at him. “I’m just too big when I’m small for hugs and when you hold my hand and call me little guy and--” Tears are rushing to his eyes. Geoff’s eyebrows keep pushing closer and closer together. Trevor sniffles. “Sorry,” his voice is tiny.

There’s a long, long pause from Geoff. “No, hey,” he says, rubbing at Trevor’s calf again. “Buddy, you don’t have to be sorry.” He pauses again. “We should be sorry. Me, and Jack, and Rye. We forget you’re small too,” he admits carefully. “Ten is not too big for hugs, or holding your hand, or calling you the same stuff we do the others.”

Trevor doesn’t see Jack’s hand until it’s almost touching his face. He jerks up, and then squeezes his eyes shut when the room spins. The move pushes tears over his lashes and dripping down his face. Jack cups his jaw and wipes them away. “Sorry, kiddo,” he murmurs. “Should’ve warned you, huh?” He looks soft and sad, like Geoff does, when Trevor cracks his eyes open and peeks at both of them. “Geoff’s right. We’ll talk to Ryan tonight and give you more attention in the future, okay?”

Jack lets him go, and Trevor slumps back into the pillow. “Wanna blanket,” he says, sniffling.

“Okay,” Jack says. He stands up and turns to go searching, then pauses and turns back. “Love you, Trevs.”

“Yeah,” Geoff chimes in. “Love you, Trevs.”

Trevor’s asleep before Jack comes back with a blanket.

**Author's Note:**

> this has been in the works for like, two months
> 
> i wanted to include fiona but she just. didnt make an appearance. next time!


End file.
